Jenna's Story
by bionic4ever
Summary: The unusual childhood of Steve & Jaime Austin's daughter, told in the first and third person.
1. Chapter 1

**THE BIONIC WOMAN  
Jenna's Story**  
by bionic4ever

Chapter One

_(Jenna):I can't remember when I first realized my parents were different from "normal" parents. I mean, every kid goes through that stage, right? Usually, it follows the "My-Parents-Can-Leap-Tall-Buildings" stage. Trouble with that one is, my parents really could._

_I was 15 before I heard either of them even say the word 'bionic', and 21 when Uncle Oscar finally explained to me exactly what that meant. Now I'm 30, the same age my mother was when she had me, and I've wasted so many years on anger and bitterness when I could've learned so much from them about life, and about the meaning of love. Standing in this graveyard, looking at the grave, I wonder why it took this - one of them gone forever and the other just as buried by grief and regret - for me to really see how truly special they've always been. Not because they were bionic, either; my parents were two unique, loving and - yes - special people who just happened to be bionic._

The day that Jaime and Steve brought their new daughter home was a day in which they knew pure bliss. It was also a day of great solemnity. They assured each other that they were both done with the drama and danger of the OSI. True, they'd said it before, but their newborn daughter gave them the determination to actually mean it. The thought that Jenna would be at high risk to be kidnapped - for ransom, information or revenge - terrified them. Jaime, especially, used to make a strong case for remaining childless, for just that reason. Looking down into Jenna's perfect little face, though, and feeling her tiny hand grasp their fingers, told the new parents that this really had been the right choice.

_I don't remember anything really unusual happening happening when I was very young, although one of my earliest memories is of the time a neighbor ran over my tricycle with his car, bending it into a piece of pop art. I cried so hard, but Dad just picked it up and bent it back into shape again, as good as new. Didn't seem strange at the time. Aren't all daddies the strongest men on Earth?_

"No way, Oscar! it's out of the question!" Jaime stalked angrily from the living room (and Oscar) to the kitchen window where she could see Steve outside, pushing 5-year-old Jenna on her swing. "Steve is retired," she said emphatically. "We both are. We're Jenna's parents now, not your operatives, and **NOT** your puppets!" Oscar joined her at the window, and she stepped aside to give him a clear view of father and daughter at play. "I'm not gonna let you take that away from her!"

Oscar hung his head, unable to look at her. "Babe, I didn't come to see Steve..."

"Oh, Oscar - No!"

"I came to see you, and it's urgent."

"Isn't it always?" Jaime sighed sadly. She knew she could argue until she turned blue; she'd still be going with him. The fact that he'd showed up now, when she'd been off the job for nearly six years, meant this had the potential to be really, really ugly.

_I first met Uncle Oscar when I was 5 or 6. Dad said he'd been a close friend for many years, but for some reason they never seemed happy to see him. The first time he came, my dad saw him looking out the window at us and he practically ran into the house. I could see Mom and Dad arguing with him while I sat all alone on my swing, wondering why everyone had forgotten about me._

_After that first time, Uncle Oscar never visited Mom and Dad without saying 'hi' to me first, and he always brought me a box of animal crackers (my favorite) to try to make me smile. I'd still cry every time I saw him, though, even when I got a little older, because every time he showed up, either Mom or Dad was going away again..._

As Jenna grew older, she learned to tell her classmates that her father was a retired astronaut and her mother a former tennis pro. Even at a very young age, however, she knew instinctively that there was more to the story...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Jenna had barely turned ten when she did something that would've gotten an adult sent to federal prison for a good, long time: she gave "Uncle" Oscar Goldman a black eye. She saw his big, black car coming down the driveway and ran outside, intercepting him just as he was getting out of his car.

"Hi, Sweetie," he said cheerfully. "I brought your favorite cook -"

Jenna ripped the box from his hand, threw it on the ground and stomped it into animal cracker pancakes. Then she drew back her arm and, with all of her 10-year-old might, punched him square in the eye. "NO!" she screamed, very close to hysterics. "NOT THIS TIME!" Jaime and Steve, hearing the commotion, headed outside. "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THEM THIS TIME!" Jenna yelled, sobbing now, "I WON'T LET YOU!"

Jaime reached her first. "Oscar, I am so sorry," she told him as she picked up her distraught daughter around her waist and carried her into the house.

"Jenna, what on Earth possessed you to -"

"I don't want you to go," the little girl cried as Jaime laid her down on the bed. "Someday, he's gonna take one of you away and you won't come back!"

Jaime pulled her daughter into a tight bear hug of an embrace, gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her. She was trying her hardest not to let Jenna see that mother and daughter shared exactly the same fear.

_They tell me I gave Uncle Oscar one devil of a shiner when I was 10 or 11. I don't remember hitting him, but I will never forget the fear that provoked it: that makes-your-blood-run-ice-cold fear that makes you wake up screaming in the middle of the night. It was a raw, ugly certainty that, whatever was going on, I would lose one or both of my parents because of it._

Later that night, after Jenna had finally fallen into a restless, unhappy version of sleep, Jaime and Steve curled up in each other's arms by the fireplace to talk. Oscar had come for Steve this time, but Steve had demanded - and actually been granted - 24 hours before he had to report to OSI headquarters. He knew it was imperative that he at least try to set things right with his daughter first.

"Steve, we really have to tell her something," Jaime said quietly.

"What do you suggest we say? That her parents have been the government's puppets since before she was -"

"No, of course not! But she knows something's going on, and she's scared out of her mind."

"Sweetheart, they're sending me to the most unstable part of Iran, and they could very well turn around and send you next."

"They can't; one of us has to stay here with Jenna."

"They could, and you know it." Steve hesitated, knowing he was about to hit a true sore spot. "Maybe it's time to seriously think about sending Jenna to live with your aunt, just until -"

"No!" Tears streamed silently down Jaime's face. "We can't do that to her; not now when she's already so angry and afraid. Not ever!"

"Would you rather have one of the terror cells we're supposed to infiltrate decide she'd make the perfect little bargaining chip?" Jaime couldn't bring herself to answer. Steve pulled her closer, completely enfolding her in his arms while she sobbed on his shoulder. Though it completely shattered their hearts, they both knew Steve was right.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_The day Mom took me to my great-aunt's house (a real aunt, not like 'Uncle' Oscar), she told me it was only for a little while. I might've only been ten, but I could tell that even she didn't believe that. I begged her not to leave me there, promised to be good and to never hit anyone ever again - you get the picture. She told me I was a good girl and it wasn't because of me at all; she and Dad had an important job to do overseas, helping people. Then she hugged me, and she was gone._

_God, I hated her - and Dad - for that! "Helping people"? Who were these faceless people and why did they matter more than I did? It took me far too long to realize that the person they were helping and protecting was me. It cost them dearly, cut them both clear to the core, but it was the most loving and unselfish decision they could have made._

Jaime did follow her husband overseas. Within a matter of days, they were both deep under cover, with Jaime inside one of the tightest, least visible and cruelest terror cells then in existence. Their name, loosely translated, meant 'Blood and Death'. It would be nearly a year before Jenna saw her father again, and almost 18 months before the whole family of three was reunited.

While Steve was able to slip right into his role with the terrorists, it was much more difficult - and more dangerous - for Jaime. In order to get even a toe in the door of the men-only death faction in a male dominant society, she had to play it smarter, faster and stronger than any of the men she aimed to join. Her role became that of a fierce female leader, as evil and ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside, and she played it masterfully. What she couldn't have known was that her mission was doomed before it began and she never even had a chance.

Jaime had been double-crossed: her information and identity sold by a traitor from her own country for a very high price. While she believed she was spending the first few weeks building a rock-solid cover, she was already being offered for sale to the highest bidder. It had been decided that, while Jaime held innumerable government secrets in her head, she was too great a danger to her comrades/captors if she decided to resist, so she was to be put to death and her body, with bionics intact, delivered to the purchasers.

Steve was aware of none of this; he didn't even know his wife was in the country. It was only through sheer luck and coincidence that he was passing through her base city on the night before she was to be killed. He was now firmly established in the area's underground intelligence network and thus heard rumblings about the woman who would soon make the group she'd joined very, very rich. The little voice in his head that Steve had learned to listen to screamed out, loud and clear: **JAIME!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_I know I was a huge pain in the ass to my great aunt, especially in the first few months I was with her. Maybe deep inside, I could sense that something very, very bad was happening. I hate that I was lied to - hated it then, despise it now - but I know the real truth would've thrown me so far out of sanity and normalcy's limits that I'd have probably never found my way back. The approach of puberty, a new-found interest in boys, junior high school cliques; that's enough to cope with at that age. A mother who'd joined a murderous posse of terrorists who were planning to kill her? Forget about it! _

Steve was unable, in the few hours remaining, to discover where Jaime was staying. He knew she was about to be completely blind-sided; she had no idea what was about to happen. He did, however, discover the identity of the purchasers.

At the appointed hour, Jaime and her would-be killers approached the black van that idled at the agreed rendezvous site: a small oasis on the edge of the desert. Steve's heart was in his throat. If his plan failed, he was about to watch his wife die a horrible, bloody death in the sand.

"Jaime," he whispered, hoping to God that she could hear him, "It's me." If she did hear, she gave no sign. "This isn't what you think. When I open the door, I want you to hit the ground - fast. Get ready." Steve pulled the door handle and stepped out of the van. Jaime, although extremely confused, did as she was told, and Steve came around the side of the van with a gun in each hand, both of them firing wildly. Two of her captors went down instantly; permanently. The third fell to the sand and grabbed for Jaime, his gun aimed directly at her head. He fired off one shot while, the same instant, Steve swooped down, picked her up in his right arm and tossed her through the air and into the open door of the van. He kicked the gunman in the head and sent him reeling backwards into the sand. On his way back to the driver's seat, he threw open the rear doors of the van and pulled out the two men who were supposed to have received Jaime's dead body. They were tied up but basically unharmed. The wheels filled the air with sand and debris as Steve pulled away doing 60, spiriting his wife to safety.

When Jaime had regained her senses, she raised her head and looked questioningly at Steve. "What the hell was that?" she asked weakly. the world was spinning around her and she knew something was terribly wrong, but, curiously, she felt no pain. Steve didn't see the blood that was surging out of her until she collapsed, falling to the floor of the van, unconcious.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Steve paced anxiously back and forth in front of the operating room door. A voice came toward him from down the hall. "How's she doing, Pal? Any word yet?"

Steve turned toward the gruff, weary-sounding voice. "Oscar." The two men started to shake hands but quickly turned to the comfort of a hug, instead. "Nothing yet; they're still in surgery. I thought you weren't getting in 'til morning."

"It **is** morning," Oscar told him quietly.

Steve looked at his watch. "Oh...then they've been in there...way too long." Oscar led him to a chair, still in view of the door he'd been watching so closely, and Steve sank into it, exhausted. Oscar sat down next to him.

"How are you holding up?"

Steve stared vacantly at nothing. "I feel so helpless, Oscar." He held his right arm in front of him and made a fist, then let it fall. He turned to his boss. "What good is it to have all this...this strength, when the only woman I've ever loved is in there, fighting for her life, and there's not a damn thing I can do to help her?"

Oscar placed a sympathetic hand on Steve's shoulder as the door to the operating room finally swung open. Doctor Rudy Wells emerged, looking tired and wilted from the nearly half-day-long surgery. Oscar had tracked him down at a retreat in Italy before Jaime had even arrived at the hospital and he was able to fly in and be at Jaime's side within an hour of her admission.

"How is she?" Steve asked nervously.

Rudy shook his head sadly. "She's in bad shape, Steve. We've very lucky you were with her and knew what to do. If you'd tried to keep driving instead of clamping down on that bleeder and calling for help, she'd never even have made it here. But...the bullet totally lacerated Jaime's left lung, and she's lost a massive amount of blood. Enough to be fatal in someone who isn't bionic. Her body's total blood volume is much lower with three bionic limbs, so for her to lose that much blood is...catastrophic. I'm sorry, Steve, but her chances are very, very slim. It'll take a miracle."

"Would she do better if we flew her back to the States?" Oscar asked.

"She's not stable enough to make the trip. At least you got her out of that hell hole and into neutral territory." Rudy paused, trying to assess the men's ability to handle the rest of the news. He went on. "A different facility wouldn't make a difference at this point, anyway. We've done everything we can do, medically. We'll keep pumping blood into her, make sure she's comfortable, and...wait."

Steve, fighting tears, didn't have to ask what they were waiting for.

_I wish someone had told me what was going on when I was 10, that my mother was battling just to stay alive. Not that I could've done anything or even gone to see her, but maybe it would've made a difference..._

Steve sat quietly at his wife's bedside, his eyes glued to her pale, still body. IV tubes dripped antibiotics and painkillers into her arm. They'd finishing replacing the blood she'd lost over a week earlier, but Jaime still hadn't shown even the slightest improvement. Oscar stood just outside the tiny glass intensive care cubicle, just watching and occasionally uttering a silent prayer. Rudy was at the desk in the tiny room he'd been given to use as an office when he was startled by the ringing of the telephone.

"Yes?" It was Leslie, Oscar's secretary, trying to patch a third-person call through to Oscar. "You've got **who** on the other line?" He listened closely. "Ok - I'll go get him."

The elderly doctor walked down the hall to the ICU and placed a hand on Oscar's shoulder, then leaned over to close the glass cubicle door. Steve had enough on his plate; he didn't need to hear this. "You have a phone call in my office," he said very quietly.

Oscar bristled. "I told Leslie I wasn't taking any calls. None!"

"You want to take this one," Rudy said, already leading him down the hall. "It's Jenna Austin, and she wants to know what you've done with her parents."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_Yeah, I was a gutsy kid, mainly because I was a lonely, very angry kid. Also a lucky one, to find a secretary sympathetic enough to get me through to Uncle Oscar. That poor man! I accused him of everything imaginable, short of murdering Mom and Dad himself. Actually, I think I accused him of that, too..._

Oscar spent nearly 40 minutes on the phone with Jenna, listening while she cried, screamed, pleaded and accused. He considered calling her father to the phone, but Steve was almost as fragile emotionally as Jaime was physically. Instead, Oscar gently told the child that her parents were working at a Peace Corps-type job in an area with no phone service. He didn't like lying to her, but he knew this was a situation where the truth would do more harm than good.

_Ok - my parents...Missionaries? Something else was going on, something bad, but I'd never even heard of the OSI, and while I couldn't picture them as missionaries, I definitely never suspected they were spies. Oops - I mean operatives._

That afternoon, while Rudy was running tests to look (again) for anything he may have missed that could be causing Jaime's continued coma, Oscar found Steve and decided to level with him.

"Hey, Pal, Jaime'll be down there at least a good hour. How about some fresh air? We can stretch our legs, and talk."

"I don't think -" Steve began.

"Sunlight'll do you good, and besides, I need to talk to you." Once they were outside, Oscar was no longer sure he was doing the right thing, but he plunged ahead. "I had a phone call this morning -"

"Ok," Steve answered tensely. "And you're telling me this - now - why?"... I'm sorry, Oscar. I'm just -"

"Don't worry about it; I understand. Pal...the phone call...it was Jenna."

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"She's alright," Oscar told him. "Well, she's not hurt or sick, anyhow."

"Tell me - please! What's wrong with my daughter?"

"She's scared - and hurt - because she hasn't heard from either of you in almost eight weeks. I told her you were both doing charity work and nowhere near a phone, but you'd try to call soon."

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Oscar." He didn't ask why he hadn't been called to the phone; there was no explanation needed. They were on their way back inside when Jaime's nurse burst out the door.

"Come quick!"

Steve made record time back to the cubicle. Jaime had been returned to her bed and Rudy was by her side. Her eyes were closed, but she was **moving**! Rudy stepped aside to allow Steve to move closer.

"Is she awake, Rudy?"

"No. But, in non-medical terms, she seems to have chosen today to try to come back to us."

"Steve..." a very faint, weak voice cried from the bed.

"Jaime?" He sat on the edge of her bed and eagerly took her hand. "Can you hear me, Sweetheart?" He looked up at Rudy questioningly.

Rudy shrugged. "It's possible. Go ahead - keep talking." He signalled to Oscar and the two men left the cubicle, closing the door to give Steve some privacy. Rudy kept a close eye on the remote monitors, alert for any changes in Jaime's condition.

Steve reached out and brushed the hair from his wife's face. He caressed her cheek and bent down to tenderly kiss her forehead. As he sat up again, he looked down into the most beautiful hazel eyes he'd ever seen, looking right back at him. They had their miracle.

_I finally heard from Dad a day or two after I found Uncle Oscar. (I knew it would work; pretty smart, huh?) Mom wasn't with him, but he said she was doing a great job, teaching little kids to read._

_Wha-a-at? She has a kid of her own who wouldn't mind a little reading: a letter, or even a card. My childhood angst was about to explode into red-hot, pre-adolescent anger._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jaime's recovery was steady, but painstakingly slow. The bullet had basically shredded her lung, which made regaining her strength difficult and at times, agonizingly painful. For a long time, her condition remained precarious.

Steve called Jenna weekly, and soon Jaime was clamoring to see, or at least talk to, her daughter. Steve didn't have the heart to tell her that sometimes Jenna hung up on him, and occasionally she'd refuse to come to the phone at all. Steve knew she was safe and well-cared for, though, so he tried to concentrate his energy on easing his wife back to health.

Three months after the shooting, what was left of Jaime's lung had nearly healed and she was taking walks around the grounds with Steve's arm for support. Everyone agreed she was finally strong enough to make the trip to Rudy's Colorado complex to complete her recovery. Oscar re-joined them for the flight to the hospital in the States, and then the plane went on to deliver him back to DC.

Jaime rested in bed for several days (the flight having taken more out of her than expected), but once she was up and around again, she refused to be denied one minute longer. A phone was finally provided so Jaime could make the one call her heart had been aching for.

"Jenna? Hi, Sweetie - It's Mom!" There was complete silence. "Jenna?"

The sullen voice on the other end barely resembled her daughter. "Mom who?" The line went dead. Jenna had hung up.

_Man, I could be a nasty little shit back then! In hindsight, when I think of how badly that call must've hurt my mom, it breaks my heart. I waited, certain she'd call right back, but the phone stayed silent for days..._

Jaime couldn't have called back, no matter how badly she wanted to. When she heard the 'click' on the other end, she took a much deeper gasp of air than her lungs were ready for and burst into inconsolable, gut-wrenching sobs. Steve found her just minutes later, gasping and struggling to catch her breath. He hit the emergency call button, wrapped his arms around Jaime and reached behind her for the oxygen mask that was fastened to the wall.

"She...wouldn't...talk to me!" Jaime cried, batting the mask away from her face. "We've lost her, Steve; I've lost her!"

"Sh-h-h, Sweetheart," Steve whispered, finally managing to fit the oxygen mask in place. "We'll get her back; we'll fix this."

Rudy hurried in, responding himself to the emergency call button. He'd known she was going to call her daughter, and Steve had alerted him to the possibility that it might not go well. Rudy came prepared. Within minutes, Jaime had been heavily sedated and began drifting off to sleep. As she was closing her eyes, she spoke to her husband.

"Go see her, Steve."

_When I saw my dad come through the front door, what I wanted was to run over and jump into his arms for one of his big, strong bear-hugs. What I actually did: stomped down the hall to my room, slammed the door and locked it._

Steve knew he had to reach her. Calmly and quietly, he removed the door from its hinges. Jenna was at the open window, one foot over the sill.

"Pretty cold out. You might want a jacket," he told her. jenna stepped down from the window and stood, ram-rod straight, with her back to her father.

"Where's Mom?"

"She had to stay and finish out the school year," Steve told her. "Didn't want the kids to have to adjust to another teacher."

"What about this kid?" Jenna whimpered, finally turning toward Steve. Her shoulders shook with many months' worth of uncried tears. "What about me? I need her, too!"

"I know, Baby," he crooned softly, enveloping his daughter in his arms and gently rocking her. "I know, and I'm so sorry."

Steve and Jenna spent the rest of the day talking, laughing and crying, getting to know each other again. That night, after Jenna fell asleep, he called his wife. She made him relate every detail about Jenna and about their day, and then she made a decision. "Take her home, Steve."

"What about you?"

"I want you here, yes, but Jenna **needs** you there."

_About four months after Dad came home, Mom finally joined us. When I saw her, I knew she hadn't been teaching; she was so thin and pale, and she moved just a little more slowly. But I shoved those thoughts away. She was Mom, and she was home. Finally, all three of us were home._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The next few years were difficult but rewarding as the three of them gradually became a family again. Jenna's grades came back up, the color returned to Jaime's face, and Steve tried to maintain his equilibrium and good sense while living in a house with two women. It was almost idyllic, until the day when the big, black car came down the driveway again.

When Oscar emerged, Jaime and Steve met him arm-in-arm: a united front.

"Where's Jenna?" the older man asked.

"School," Jaime told him. "And Oscar, you know we love you, but whatever you came for, the answer is no."

Oscar waited until they were all seated together in the den before dropping his latest bombshell. "Intel reports 'Blood and Death' has been re-activated."

"Oh no..." Jaime said softly. Steve held her close to his body, protectively.

"They've grown even stronger," Oscar told them. "And they've spread, with active cells in Pakistan, Iraq and Afghanistan as well as the original. their goals are the same as before, with one addition. They'd still love to get their hands on one of you, for your bionics, but they're also out for revenge."

Jaime shuddered, and Steve grew angry. "She's not going -"

"No, she's not," Oscar concurred. "I'm sending you both underground, into hiding, until this is resolved. Jenna, too."

"No!" Jaime repeated, sharply this time.

Steve leaned forward. "Oscar, only three of them saw me, and two of them are dead. If we changed my appearance, I could do this."

Oscar and Jaime both shook their heads but Steve kept going. "Send Jaime and Jenna on vacation and let me do this. I need to do this - for them."

"Steve, the one who shot me knows you're bionic, and -" Jaime was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

"What's 'Bionic'?" Jenna was home.

_This time, I was old enough and had heard enough to figure out that 'Uncle Oscar' was with the government, and both Mom and Dad had something important going on with him. No one attempted to answer my question, though. _

_Mom and I were whisked off in the big, black car and flown to this gorgeous, remote island where I got the best tan ever and Mom sat back in the shade, trying not to look worried. Three weeks later we went home and Dad was there, waiting for us. He had a happy, triumphant smile on his face and one of his patented bear-hugs for each of us._

_We only saw Uncle Oscar once more after that. I was 21, and he seemed light years older than the last time we'd seen him. He brought me a bouquet of roses, with a tiny animal cracker fastened to each stem. He spent a little time with my mom, and then with my dad, but he'd actually come to see me; he'd come to make peace._

_Finally, all the pieces of the puzzle fit. Uncle Oscar told me how deeply he regretted my childhood being ripped to shreds and that now I was old enough to understand what had really happened. He helped me to see how very much my parents had loved me, all along, and that their actions had been out of love, as well as to keep me safe and make the world around me a better, safer place. He explained bionics, a concept I still don't fully understand, and told me about what had happened to each of my parents. Finally, it all made sense._

_The people (like Mom) who had jokingly predicted he'd die at his desk, still hard at work, turned out to be right. Three days after Uncle Oscar's visit, they found him with his head on a stack of files, a pen still in his hand._


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was a gorgeous day, almost fairytale beautiful: turquoise skies, no clouds, and a light breeze to take the edge off the August humidity. Steve and Jaime sat on a blanket in the park, surrounded by the remnants of a picnic lunch. Each of them had one hand hooked through the suspenders of one of the pair of squirming toddlers: their twin grandsons.

Jaime sighed happily. "You think Jenna'd let us keep them?"

"Terrible twos are on their way, Sweetheart; wouldn't take long before you'd change your mind." They both laughed, and Steve leaned over to kiss her. "If you really want another one that badly, we could always -" he fell silent, his eyes suddenly deathly serious and his face ghost-white.

"Steve? What is -" Steve held up his hand and Jaime stopped talking, looking at him quizzically. His bionic eye was focusing on something too far in the distance for Jaime to spot. He turned to her grimly.

"Sweetheart, take the babies and go - "

"Steve what is going -"

"Please, Jaime. leave the stuff; just take the babies and go. When you're far enough away, call Washington and tell them to send in the cavalry. **Do it now**!" Frightened and confused, Jaime complied. Her husband did not follow, but as she was pulling away, her ear picked up a faint whisper: "I love you, Sweetheart..."

_When those bloodthirsty animals came for my parents for the third time, my dad decided he'd had enough. He sent Mom and the twins away and, when the men were close enough, somehow used the power pack in his arm (don't ask me!) and a match from the picnic to create an explosion. No one survived. He chose to die to thwart their plans and keep my mom and my sons from harm. _

_Now, as I stand looking at the gravestone, I realize the lesson he and Mom had been trying to impart my whole life: that true love means forgoing your own wants and needs sometimes, in the best interests of those you love. **Thank you, Dad;** I finally get the message._

END


End file.
